Alleviate
by lste
Summary: "Unfortunately, in our scientific practices we must make sacrifices." I squint at him, trying to decipher what he is grasping that I'm not. Holly's words playing in my head like a broken record, 'I don't know why, but I know they will do terrible things to you, Stiles. And I'm the only thing keeping you alive.'
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING:** This story is rated M for a reason. Violence/Gore/Sex/Rape and numerous other things. If anything is a trigger to you, be warned that most chapters in this story will be related to this.

 **DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing related to Teen Wolf.

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CHAPTER ONE

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Darkness is the first thing I see when I become conscious. I think maybe I'm blind, that the blow to my head took out more than I thought. I can't even remember why they hit me. Were we fighting? Who was it? Where was I before? Where am I now?

My eyes are closed, head is pounding heavily at my temple. There's a noise. Chains? They are scraping on the floor. I have half a thought that I should be afraid, but I'm too incoherent to really fight. Everything feels heavy, distant, and I can't focus on where one thought fades into another.

Something grabs my wrist. It feels soft, delicate. It curls gently around, but the fingers don't quite wrap around entirely. A hand? In fact, a _small_ hand.

Then the breath whooshes out of my lungs as relief washes over me, pain that I didn't even realize I felt being sucked out of my temple, back, throat, arms, ugh, and it feels as if the bones in my legs are reconnecting.

I'm finally able to pry open my eyes. It's still dark, splotchy white dots are haunting my vision. When they stop blurring and my head stops spinning I'm gazing up at a cave? A cell? The ceiling is stone and pretty low, it'd probably brush against my head if I stood on my toes.

There's ragged breaths coming close beside me. The hand that held my wrist falls loose and I hear the thump of it on the cemented floor. My tongue feels cottony when I try to swallow, but other than that my body doesn't ache anymore.

Pushing myself up shakily I glance beside me to see a girl sprawled across the floor. I gap, she's bleeding and shivering and _in so much pain_. Her auburn hair is to her chin caked with a dirt and grime; so is the rest of her body. She's only wearing a nude bra and panties, but those are covered in the filth from the dust covered cell, too.

That's it. We are in a cell.

She's gasping, fist tightening at her side. I hesitantly reach out for her and she groans when my fingers barely graze her forearm.

"How can I help?" I ask. I'm on my knees hovering over her to survey the damage.

She clenches her fist tight. "You can't."

I know this is true, but I don't want to believe it. There's an open wound that is pretty deep on her temple.

"Let me wrap your head. It's bleeding pretty bad."

"No, it's fine. I'll be fine in a couple hours."

"When you're _dead?_ "

"When I heal."

We are silent for a few hours. My back is against the chilly wall. I've let myself become familiar with our cell. I still can't grasp while we are here. The last memory I had was sitting on my laptop in my bedroom. I'm wearing the same clothes from my last memory. Red plain pajama pants and a black teeshirt. Except, there's holes in the pants that weren't there before, visible bloodstains even through the darkness of my tee, and blood crusted underneath my blunt nails.

I was researching something for Scott… _something_ , and I can't figure it out. I want to ask so many questions. If this girl knows why I am here? Why are we in a cell? Who took me? What she is? Why she is healing? Because she definitely is healing. The wound on her temple closing up, the sound of bones snapping back into place (which still makes me cringe thinking about).

There is a cot in the corner. One pillow, one blanket. The other end has a toilet and a sink. Half-empty bottle of soap, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. Also, a couple rolls of toilet paper.

The girl has a chain around her ankle that is locked firmly in the center of the room. I'm not chained, I wonder why.

It could've been minutes, hours, days, _weeks_ , and finally she moves. She pushes herself into a sitting position, her legs crossed on the floor.

"My name is Holly," she tells me, lifting her head to show me her deep set eyes. They are the color of bark on a maple tree, surprisingly beautiful and expressive. Even if her entire face is covered in strips of black dirt I can tell she's pretty. She's got a decently big nose, but her lips are plump and heart-shaped, and her skin has moles and freckles dotting her skin. At least, I _think_ that's what they are. They could be dirt.

I wave my hand. "I'm Stiles."

We are silent for a few moments. She is still breathing heavily from the pain.

"Do you know why we are here?" I ask her.

She sighs, "No. All I know is they want something."

"Want what?"

"I don't no."

"Who are you? _What_ are you?"

"I told you, I'm Holly… and I'm-I'm a healer."

"A healer?"

She bites her lip, cries out when another snap echo's sharply in the small room. I clench my eyes tightly shut at the noise. It makes my own bones ache.

"I can take the injuries from someone and transfer it to myself. I heal faster than an average human. It hurts, depending on the amount of damage it can be a slow process."

"Is that what you did? You healed me? Are those my injuries?"

"Yes."

My eyes are blown wide. "I would have died."

"Yeah, you would have. You were dying."

"T-thank you."

She doesn't say anything.

"Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" she bites back, obviously not finding the question appropriate.

"Sorry, yes, obviously it hurts. I meant, are you still in pain?"

"Not so much anymore."

"How long have I been here? How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. A few hours? They tossed you in and I immediately transferred your injuries to me. And I… I've been in here for a long time."

"How long?"

Holly shrugs. "I don't know. It's hard to keep track without sunlight or a clock."

I nod, already to familiar with how lost time is.

"Do you know why you are here?"

She stands on her legs, wobbling over towards the sink. Turning it on she begins to rinse the blood off her slowly. I wait for her to finish, staring down at the muck under my fingernails to giver her some since of privacy

When she is finished she stumbles over to the cot, lying on it exhausted. Her fingers are tugging through her damp hair to work out the tangles.

Finally she answers, "I'm here to heal."

"Heal?"

She meets my stare boldly. "I don't know why, but I know they will do terrible things to you, Stiles. And I'm the only thing keeping you alive."

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Tell me what you thinkkkk?


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

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Holly is right.

They come while we sleep. I'm disoriented, hauled up by each arm. My feet drag as I'm still trying to wake up, and I can't keep up with how fast they are walking. I blearily blink open my eyes to see bright white lights on the ceiling and a long stretch of gray hallways. It looks like a hospital. It doesn't feel like a hospital.

I'm brought into a room. It's white, too white. A single light dangles from the ceiling. There is a chair, like the ones in dental rooms. I'm strapped into the seat by wrists, forearms, ankles, thighs, and a larger strap across my stomach. I start to struggle in my confines.

"Let me out!" I scream venomously, I feel my blood boiling with rage. "What the hell do you want with me? What are you doing?"

One man leaves. Then there is another light and when I look before me I see the wall is made of glass. The man is in that room. It's gray, dark, and appears like a medical room. Or a morgue. He stands in front of the glass with his arms crossed watching us.

I feel my wrists burn as I struggle against the straps. The man with me smiles, his teeth are tinged yellow and his nose is fat and has a residing hairline. He's hideous. He leans forward and I smell his stale breath, I gag.

"Name, Stiles Stilinski. Age, twenty-two. Weight, one hundred and fifty nine pounds. Height-"

"What the hell man?"

He pauses to give me a once over. Then he turns his back and continues with his observations. He knows too much about me. Where I live, where I work, who all my friends are. It takes me a moment to realize that he has a microphone in his hand that he is speaking into.

"Human…" he mutters, turning to me with narrowed blue eyes.

"Yeah, human. So, if you're done… can you let me go now?"

"Do you know why you are here, Stiles?" he asks.

I laugh unamused. "IF I knew I wouldn't have asked, asshat."

I can tell he's growing frustrated with me by the way his hand tightens on his recorder. He steps closer, I can smell his breath gain. It's nauseating and vile. I realize I haven't eaten in a long time, and I'm not sure what's in my stomach, but I feel like puking it all over him.

"Do you know what we are?"

"Seriously?" my tone is sarcastic, and I know I should shut up. I can tell b the expression of pure ice that filters across his face that I'm doing all the wrong things, digging under his skin.

"We are hunters."

Fucking _great_. More hunters to worry about. And here, I thought the Argent's were bad once in a lifetime.

"Don't you have a code?"

The man tilts his head. "We have our own code. We run a special kind of hunting business."

"Oh yeah? Kidnap innocent people and lock them in cells? Humans? Defenseless woman?"

"Holly is anything but defenseless."

The way he says her name sets me even more on edge.

"You are here, specifically, Mr. Stilinski because we need your alpha."

"Why? Other than the obvious you want to kill werewolves thing. Because you're sick, twisted bastards."

He smacks me _hard_. My lip splits and that disgusting copper taste fills my mouth.

"We hunt supernatural beings that posses certain abilities that are useful to us. Abilities that we might be able to extrat and use to change the world, better it."

"I'm beyond done with the crazy scientist _and_ hunter thing. I've dealt with it too many times before, it won't work. My alpha is going to come and kick you hunter asses and you'll look really stupid in a jail cell, or buried ten feet under."

"I'm counting on him coming to your rescue. You, specifically, were chosen for what you are Stiles. _Human_ ; a measly weak, and pathetic, human. That, and you have a very special connection with your alpha. You _are_ the lead beta in a sense, even if you're human. You're his right hand man, his brother. He will come after you."

"Yeah… and then he's going to kick your ass."

"When he does come he will be reckless. He will do anything to save you. He will _feel_ how much pain you are in. It'll make him crazed. Werewolves are known to do anything for their pack mates."

I'm silent, eyes following him as he steps in circles around me.

"Then we will capture him. Then we can begin his trials, and you will become useless."

"Trials?"

"Like the trials we are doing with Holly. Testing to see how much pain she can extract before she can no longer. Maybe one day we can use her abilities to save hundreds, thousands, _millions_. She can be the cure to cancer! To aids!"

"While that seems very _nobel_ , you're not exactly going about it the right way… not sure the world will appreciate they found out you found the cure by torturing an innocent girl."

He ignores me, seemingly lost in his fascination with "curing" the world.

"That is why we need your alpha. It's nearly impossible to capture an alpha without killing them. They are strong, vicious, and are so violent it's either kill them or be killed. But if we lure him here for you… we can contain him, get him inside were we can sedate him in a way that we won't have to kill him."

"You know… my dad's the sheriff. People will be looking for me. It's not like I'm somebody that will just disappear off the radar and go unnoticed."

"The alpha's abilities to heal and extract pain are so… so _magnificent_. All the alpha's we've captured in the past, unfortunately, scummed to their end during certain procedures. I'm sure this time it'll work."

I'm irritable. He's not listening to me. Going off on his tirade like he's a saint. What he is doing is fucked up, _demented_. He's crazy.

Then he is finished with his speech about world peace and curing the world. He remembers it is me he is speaking to. His smile churns into a frown.

"Unfortunately, in our scientific practices we must make sacrifices."

I squint at him, trying to decipher what he is grasping that I'm not. Holly's words playing in my head like a broken record, _I don_ _'_ _t know why, but I know they will do terrible things to you, Stiles. And I_ _'_ _m the only thing keeping you alive_.

 _They will do terrible things to you, Stiles._

 _Terrible things._

Dr. Jekyll, which is what I'm calling the crazed "scientist" in the room with me, ushers for Mr. Hyde, the man behind the glass. I get lightheaded when Mr. Hyde starts to push a metal cart between the rooms. One wheel is squeaking loudly, turning at an odd angle as it scrapes across the cement ground. I begin to panic when I see the sharp tools jolting with every thrust he makes to get the cart over to us.

"What are you doing with those?"

Dr. Jekyll slips on a pair of neon blue gloves. Mr. Hyde does, too.

"This is going to hurt…" Dr. Jekyll tells me, he leans over to inspect the tools. I'm shaking, fighting against the restraints. A part of my brain tells me it's _stupid_. Clearly I'm human, obviously I'm strapped in, and there is _no way_ for me to escape this horrid situation I have found myself in.

Mr. Hyde brushes a hand through my hair almost _adoringly_ and it makes me sick, sicker than I already am. He has bright green eyes. They are vidid and sparkle. He's staring down at me with a smirk. He's not as ugly as Dr. Jekyll, but for some reason the expression on his face terrifies me more.

They both pick up thin sharp medical knives. The kinds that cut through skin like running a fingertip through water.

"No, no, no, no, no, no," I'm screaming it.

Dr. Jekyll has the audacity to look sympathetic. "It's for the good of the cause, Stiles."

Like-like _that_ is supposed to make this okay.

I feel the knife press against my arm on my inner elbow. He pushes it, it takes a few seconds for my mind to realize it's in pain.

I'm begging them to stop.

Mr. Hyde does the same to my opposite arm. They are both pulling the knives up my forearm and into my armpit.

 _Screaming_.

That's all I can do. Screaming, and crying. I hate that I'm crying. No, not crying. Sobbing. Shaking.

It's painful. Mr. Hyde takes a hold of the folds of my skin and _pulls it back_.

That's the last thing I recall before I black out.

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ALRIGHT! I got one review from Teen Wolf Trash, which is awesome THANKS. And two followers: and ! Thanks so much. This story is going to get pretty sick! I hope you're prepared to be emotional for poor Stiles and Holly :(


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

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I wake up screaming.

There's a voice in my ear. Soft, feminine. I feel moisture on my cheeks, on my forearms. My fingertips are gripping at the sensitive skin in an effort to pull at back where it belongs, but it doesn't feel folded over anymore.

Small hands are circling my arms. Hugging? They are hugging me, from behind. There's something solid alongside my back. It has to be a body.

"Shhhh."

 _They will do terrible things to you, Stiles._

"It's okay now. You're okay. It doesn't hurt anymore. I took it away. It's gone."

 _And I_ _'_ _m the only thing keeping you alive_.

There isn't any pain. I still feel it, though, in my head. The muscles on my arm spasm. I feel Mr. Hyde is peeling back my skin.

A few minutes pass. Hours? I don't know.

The hands loosen around me and I stare down at myself. There's fresh blood on my skin and on the ground around us.

"Oh god," is all I can manage.

"Use the toilet!"

I'm scrambling to my feet. I make it to the toilet, vomiting _nothing_ , because there is nothing. It's acid reflex. Mostly mucus. It tastes disgusting.

"They brought you a toothbrush," Holly says, once I'm done dry heaving and have my forehead pressed to the cold metal of the tub. "It's the blue one. They also brought us a bucket of water, rags and more soap."

I rinse the taste from my mouth and brush my teeth. Then I fill the bucket with water and start to wipe off my arms. I expect their to be open wounds or scars, but it's just the same mole spattered skin I'm used to.

Then I turn to look at Holly, and I feel like emptying my stomach all over again. Her arms are bleeding. They appear almost healed, the skin isn't pulled back over. I'm silently thankful that was something I stayed blacked out for. I don't think I can handle seeing that ever again.

She took my wounds. She cared for me. She kept me _alive_.

I manage to break away my blatant gaping to fill up the bucket with fresh water and mix in soap. Hurriedly, I go to her side and gently begin to clean up the blood. I apologize in hushed whispers whenever Holly groans when the rag is too rough on her soft skin. The bucket is bright red after a moment. I have to switch out the water three more times before it just stays a light pink.

I recall when Scott got his first tattoo. How the needle made me faint in the parlor. How the sight of blood used to make me faint up until the age of sixteen. The idea of chopping off Derek's arm to save his life felt like _I_ would die doing it. Now… I have killed before, been the cause of someones blood draining slowly from their own body.

Holly is breathing heavy. The cuts are only a thin line now, hardly a scratch. I'm rubbing dirt and blood off her stomach, and I have half a thought that I should give her more privacy and I should stop trying to clean her. She's only in underwear and a bra. But there is nothing sexual about this.

Her ribs are nearly poking out of her stomach. Are they planning on feeding us?

"Thanks…" she sounds grateful. I help her sit. She takes the rag away from me and starts to scrub at the blood on the floor. "If we don't clean this it'll start to smell."

She scrubs the blood and I change out the water three more times.

"I'm…" Holly's cheeks are bright pink. She is taking the single blanket from the cot and staring at me embarrassed. "I'm going to wash my bra and underwear. And clean myself off a bit more…"

I'm embarrassed, too.

I sit on the cot and face the wall. I try not to listen as she strips off her clothes. She lets the water run and there's the sound of her scrubbing soap into the fabric.

After she is finished she sits beside me with the blanket wrapped around her like a towel. Her face is devoid of any emotion, but clearer now that she's washed the grime off of it. It reminds me of when I first met Derek. How empty and cold he was. I understand that now, and now I feel terrible for how Scott and I treated him.

"Once my clothes are dry we should wash yours."

I don't say anything, but I agree. My clothes smell of dried blood and sweat.

"They told me why I am here," I tell her.

Her head snaps to face me.

"They said it's to capture Scott. He's my best friend, a werewolf. They want to run tests on him, like they are running tests on you."

She's silent for seventeen minutes and twenty-nine seconds. At least, that's how much I count with my Mississippi's.

Leaning forward she whispers into my ear, "Once they tell you he's close, tell me. _Immediately._ "

I just nod because it sounds so important to her.

"Do they plan on feeding us?"

"They feed us twice a day and bring us fresh water."

We are silent for _hours_. That's what it feels like, anyway.

My hands are fidgeting unconsciously in my lap. I'm tapping a beat to a rhythm in my head that I'm not sure I even know what it is.

Holly is still. Sometimes I glance at her just to make sure she is still breathing.

"I can't let them capture Scott," I finally say.

Holly's eyes meet mine seriously. "He's your best friend?"

"More like my brother."

"Do you want to talk about him?"

I do. I want to talk. I want to pretend I'm not here, anywhere else is fine. Anywhere.

"Tell me about him. What is he like?"

"He's an idiot."

She gives me a questioning stare, her nose scrunching up at the negative comment.

"He loves so much. He has a big heart. He trusts _everyone,_ no matter how many times he's betrayed. He always giving second, third, _fourth_ chances. He has these stupid brown eyes that remind me of adorable baby puppies. His jaw is kinda crooked."

"Sounds like you've got yourself a bromance."

The word bromance sounds so weird coming from Holly's mouth. I consider the fact Holly is probably around my age. She was most likely just like me. Sitting at home, having fun with her friends, being _alive_. Then she was taken and put in a cell, forced to heal people that were beaten near death. To feel their pain. It's hard to wrap my head around the fact she most likely wasn't serious. Maybe she was sarcastic? Maybe she giggled after everything anybody said? Maybe her smile lights up a room? I wouldn't know. I don't know if I'll ever know.

"We met in a playground at school. In the sand. We've been inseparable ever since. Even if sometimes he's a jerk and hangs out with his girlfriends more than me, but that's understandable. It's not like I'm having sex with him."

The thought makes me want to puke. Not as much as my other thoughts lately, but still, gross.

"Sounds like a great guy."

"He is…"

I don't want to stop talking, but I know Holly doesn't know what else to say. Her mouth is opening and closing, fighting for words. I wonder how long it's been since she had a cellmate. I have a haunting feeling it actually hasn't been that long.

"My dad is the sheriff."

"Of where?"

"Beacon Hills."

"Never heard of it."

"Where are you from?"

"Reno."

My eyes widen. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Huh…"

"Being sheriff is a huge responsibility. What about your mom?"

The familiar sensation of my heart beating faster at the mention of her happens. I run a hand through my greasy hair. "She passed away."

Holly doesn't apologize. She says, "Mine too."

We don't talk for a few hours, I think.

Her clothes are dry so she changes back into the underwear and bra. There are new blood stains that didn't wash out, but I try not to stare. I don't want her to think I'm staring at her breasts. Not that they aren't nice, because they are, but I'm not staring. Well, I'm _staring_ at the stains. Well, trying _not_ to stare.

Frustrated with myself, I walk over to clean the dirt and blood from my body and clothes.

Holly is facing the wall to give me privacy as I did for her.

I take off all my clothes and scrub them in the sink with freezing water. There's mostly blood on my shirt, but it's black so I'm grateful you can't really see the stains. I do the same for my pajama pants and solid gray boxer-briefs. Using the rag I scrub at my body. Then I place my wet clothes so they are hanging on the edge of the sink.

"I didn't grab the blanket," I say when I note that I'm standing nude in a freezing cell with wet clothes behind me. My hands are over my junk and I feel my skin burning with embarrassment. Did they have cameras in this cell? I can't see any, but the thought is enough to cause complete mortification.

Holly holds the blanket out behind her. I quickly snatch it and wrap it around my waist. I kinda feel uncomfortable sitting beside her naked, but I don't want to sit on the floor, so I sit anyway.

"Do you remember what you were doing before they took you?"

Holly bends her knees and wraps her arms around herself. She is shivering, I feel bad about hogging the blanket, but I don't intend to share when I'm naked underneath it.

"Yeah…" Her chin rests atop her kneecaps. "My friends and I were at my parents house. It was, ugh, a summer picnic thing. All of us finally back from school. It was nice. We hadn't hung out in ages. Then they came."

Her voice sounds hollow. Almost as if she's emotionally trying to block out more than what she tells me. I take in that she said that she was at her parents house, and she said her mom was dead. I decide not to press the subject.

"I was on my laptop in my room. I'm on break, too. It's winter, by the way… It was four more days until Christmas."

Holly cries.

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Teen Wolf Trash: AHH! Thanks for the review AGAIN! I appreciate it :D

Guest: Stiles is going to go through hell, but he will be okay!

xXbriannaXx: IT IS SO DARK! all the questions that you have about Holly will be answered soon! Pinky promise! I don't wanna answer them yet though, but at least this chapter kinda starts to answer your questions (somewhat). She's from Reno, Nevada! haha one question answered!

M: I'm so happy I'm writing something you haven't read before! I love writing and doing new things and stuff, so I'm hoping that it ends up being something you enjoy!

* * *

 **SNEAK PEAK FROM CHAPTER FOUR:**

"Can we cut the shit guys?" I taunt, they are yanking me. Each of them have a hand wrapped around my armpit."Scott isn't coming. This is all for nothing. You should just let Holly and I go."

"He is. He will," Dr. Jekyll clarifies with a firm grin. He sounds so sure.

My gut tightens, because I know he is right.


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING:** This chapter has graphic description of rape, which may cause triggering! Please don't read after the space line if this is an issue for you. It's the entire last portion of this chapter.

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CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

I don't know how long we've been here, but I have had five "sessions" with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I always black out. Holly always heals me.

Except, the sessions are getting _worse_ and my pain tolerance is _growing,_ so it takes me a lot longer to black out.

And Holly can't take my injuries completely with how much damage they do. She says that it'll kill her.

That is how we find ourselves bleeding on the floor (we try to stay off the cot when we are bleeding so it won't smell). We are facing each other. Her eyes are so dark they remind me of the midnight sky, they blink slowly. There's got to be some metaphor in her eyes for whatever we are going through, but I can't really think of one at the moment.

Our hands are connected. She used to grab my wrists, but lately we just hold hands. I think it makes us feel better to have some sense of connection with someone. At least, it makes me feel better. I don't feel so alone. Even if a part of me wishes Holly wasn't here. That she was home, that they never came to get her. Because then she would be happy.

I've decided I enjoy her company a lot. She has a soft voice, it's calming and unique. She never presses anything. Sometimes she is too quiet, but I fill up the silence enough for the both of us, so it's not really a problem.

We sleep on the cot together now. The first night it happened it was awkward. I didn't feel comfortable, I felt like she was forced into it. I guess she was, but she didn't mind. She forced _me_ into the bed. Then she put her back as hard as she could against the wall to make sure there was room for the both of us. The mucky gray blanket in the room fits us both pretty well, my feet stick out because I'm tall, but it's pretty warm. Holly is able to fit under the entire blanket. She's very small, and unhealthy skinny. I'm starting to get unhealthy skinny, too.

It makes me sad. Some nights she just cries when she thinks I'm sleeping. So, I just hold her tighter.

Holly whimpers when there's a loud crack as a bone goes back into place. I'm not sure how her healing powers work, but she manages to take the worse injuries and leaves me with the less painful ones.

I squeeze her hand.

"I'm almost done," she pants. "Then I'll take more."

"No…"

Holly pulls her brows together in a scowl. "Don't tell me no. I'm almost done. You need to be one hundred percent, we don't know when they will be back."

She's right, but it makes me feel terrible watching her bleeding helplessly on the floor.

"When we get out of here I'm going to take you someplace nice."

Holly laughs lightly, it causes her to wince. "Yeah? Why?"

"Well, I think after a life and death situation such as ours, we deserve to go on a nice romantic date."

"Romantic? Won't your girlfriend be upset?"

This makes me laugh. It's like one of those cheesy ways of asking if someone is single. Like, won't your boyfriend mind? Or whatever. It sounds so _normal_. And we are bleeding and broken on the ground in a cell.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"Then sure… I'd love for you to take me on a romantic date."

"Where do you want to go?"

She shrugs. "I don't care. I think McDonald's sounds pretty romantic right now. Better than that cold slop they call food."

"McDonald's does sounds really great right now. Ugh, I want curly fries so bad. If I had a super power, I'd want it to be able to magically transform any object into food."

"You're an idiot."

"Just for that, I'd turn your fingers into curly fries. And eat all of them. I wouldn't even share."

"Sounds tasty. Too bad, I wouldn't have any fingers to hold your hand anymore though."

"Fine… I'll turn your toes. Happy?"

"Only if you plan on carrying me around everywhere."

"Sounds like a plan."

I can tell when Holly starts to take away the rest of my injuries, I'm unable to move while she does it and the pain dulls. I'm so grateful for her. Without her I would be dead. In more ways then one. I don't think I could go through this without her beside me.

Once I'm able to move around without pain, I get up and start to clean her off. It's a process that we started doing. While she withers on the floor in pain I try to clean up as much blood off of her as possible. Then I clean myself up and my clothes. That way my clothes will be dry by the time she's ready to really scrub herself down.

It is the end of the night. Or start of the day? I haven't seen sunlight in weeks. Months?

Holly and I are wrapped up on the bed. She likes to hide her head under the blanket. I join her.

She only smiles under here, and it's the most beautiful thing is this terrible place.

"I think I'm in love with you," she says. "Do you think it's real?"

I slide my hands onto her bare waist. "Do you think it is?"

"I think so. I've never been in love with anyone before. But… I'm… I don't want to live without you. If anything happens to you I think I'll give up."

This thought scares me.

"Don't you dare give up," I scold her. She glowers at me. My hands move to cup her cheeks. "Don't talk like that."

Holly blinks and big fat tears fall down her cheeks. "My friends are all dead. They took them, too. They were kinda like me. They had abilities… So did my parents… They ran experiments on them, and threw them in here for me to heal them. Most I think they accidentally killed while they were running tests. A few of them dead because… I couldn't take their injuries without killing myself."

I kiss her for the first time. It's wet and she's still crying while she kisses me back. It's probably the worst kiss I've ever had in my life, but it still feels nice.

* * *

It is the first time they come for me while we are sleeping. I always fight. Holly just sits there and sobs. It's like she can do much with her foot chained anyway.

I need to figure out where they have her key before I try to escape.

"Can we cut the shit guys?" I taunt, they are yanking me. Each of them have a hand wrapped under my armpit."Scott isn't coming. This is all for nothing. You should just let Holly and I go."

"He is. He will," Dr. Jekyll clarifies with a firm grin. He sounds so sure.

My gut tightens, because I know he is right.

They lead me into the room. I am disturbed that there is a body on the other side of the glass. There is a white sheet that appears to have slipped off the man and from what I can see… It's nauseating thinking that, that might end up being me.

There is an irritable sigh that escapes the scientist (or so he claims to be). "I told them to move that earlier…"

"It's one of our other experiments," Dr. Jekyll continues to explain to me, like I fucking care. There's a dead body. I don't want to die. I'm afraid of Holly giving up if I die. "He wasn't strong enough to stop the walls from crushing in on him. Flattened him to death."

I start squirming. I don't want to be flattened. I still want to live.

I want to finish college. I want to be a deputy, maybe sheriff when Dad retries. I want to help Scott save Beacon Hills from all the stupid supernatural shit. I want to stand beside Scott at graduation again, but this time the one that will mean the start of our grown up lives. I want to see him become a veterinarian officially and one day take over Deaton's clinic. I want to see him get married. I want to watch all my friends get married, be successful, have kids. _I want to have kids. I want to get married. I want to live._

"You're fighting is useless," Mr. Hyde chides as if he's talking to a small child.

Dr. Jekyll pinches the bridge of his big, fat, ugly nose. Woe is him, they forgot to remove the _dead fucking body_ , while I am here potentially the next _fucking dead body_.

"Looks as if I need to clean this up. Mind taking care of our guest alone?"

Mr. Hyde appears pleased, but tries to mask his too-wide smile by turning to adjust the straps on my wrist. "I do not mind. I'll take great care of him."

"Make sure not to go _too_ hard. I think his friend might show up soon, but not soon enough. We still need him alive. That means we still need Holly alive. For now."

It's a threat. Like Mr. Hyde has fucked up his plans in the past.

Well, it's somewhat nice knowing that I'm useful enough that Dr. Jekyll isn't interested in killing me. Yet.

"Yes sir," Mr. Hyde agrees.

He pretends to play with my straps until Dr. Jekyll wheels the dead body from the other room.

"I've been waiting to get you alone for a long time…"

I close my eyes and try not to freak out. It's not working. Mr. Hyde always digs his cuts a little deeper than Dr. Jekyll. Always gets a little more joy at hearing me scream, seeing me cry.

"Tonight we are going to do something different. I'm sure they won't mind, as long as I make you scream."

The way his calloused finger tips graze my stubbled chin make me cringe.

"I like men," he tells me.

My stomach sinks.

"I also like boys… young boys. I know you aren't as young as I typically enjoy. I love when we get the young innocent virgins. Those are my favorite."

"You're seriously fucked up."

His smile is glistening. He agrees proudly, "I know."

Mr. Hyde's fingertips are toying with the hem of my plaid pajama bottoms. The pads of soft skin are slicked with his sweat as he anxiously feels at the skin of my stomach.

"Stop," I warn him, but it's an empty threat. There is nothing I can do. My wrists are tied, my body is restrained, I have no way of fighting this off.

He tugs the pajamas down my thighs. I decide that if he unstraps me to try and get them off I'll fight him. I will kick him, I will bite him, I will hurt him.

He doesn't tug them down farther. Instead, he sticks his nose in my crotch and inhales. I'm arching my back as I struggle, I thrust my hips up and try to nudge him away. He tights the restraints on my thighs and waist.

"You smell delicious."

"I haven't showered in _weeks_. You're disgusting."

"Have you ever been with a man?"

"No."

I'm shaking.

"I bet you have a tight virgin hole. Pink, and beautiful."

"Stop it. _Stop talking_."

He slides down my briefs.

"Stop, please, please stop."

Mr. Hyde takes my limp penis into his mouth. The restraints are digging into my wrists as I try to pull my body free, it doesn't work.

Him sucking me off doesn't work, either.

I'm still soft.

He gives up trying to get me hard. That doesn't deter him.

"What the fu-stop, stop this _right now_. This isn't what you're supposed to do. Aren't you supposed to be cutting me open? Peeling back my skin? Not-not _that_."

Laughing, he bends to unlatch two pieces on either side of the chair. There are restraints on the end. I've never been to a gynecologist, I'm a man with male parts, but I've seen movies (Teeth, which I was almost hopping would sprout on my body at this point) and done my research (that research might have been some porn involving a male doctor having sexual relations with one of his patients, that might have momentarily think becoming a gynecologist was a great idea when I was fourteen).

"Did you know that the chair opens like this?" he asks condescendingly, because he knows I didn't.

I'm begging him to stop more.

He starts adjusting me on the seat. There is a lot of struggling. Kicking. I got him good in the gut, once, but he just heaves than carries on even harsher. He removed my pants and boxer-briefs, spreads my legs and chains my ankles.

I can't make sense of anything, I'm having a panic attack. I feel like I'm dying. I must be dying.

There is something cold pressed against my rectum. It's gel. It's oil? I don't know.

His pants are at his ankles. I'm clenching my teeth, he presses his very hard erection inside of me _fast_.

I'm screaming.

Then I'm not. It's been going on for a few minutes. Hours? Definitely not hours. There is no way this can last hours, but it feels like it.

I'm numb. Staring up at the single white light hanging overhead.

I wish he killed me. But I think of Holly. Her deep brown eyes, her messy brown hair, the freckles on her cheeks, the dimples she has when she smiles underneath our blanket, the way she holds my hand to take away my pain.

I want to live.

It sucks, it hurts, but I'll live through this.

I want to live through this.

* * *

Teen Wolf Trash: Stiles will always & forever be awkward. I try to link to how has character will develop over the years too. Even in season 5 now we see that Stiles is more reserved/quiet than prior seasons. I'm thinking of how he will be in his twenties after all the events that have happened and assuming more vents that will transpire through the ages! Which I hope I'm getting pretty decently. And this chapter has more insight on Holly as well! Hopefully it gives even more to her character (I'm trying to stray from my typical female characters that I write in stories).

theunromanticauthor: I'm glad you appreciate how Stiles takes everything in with his torture! I wanted to give insight on how he would react more mentally than verbally. Because I feel like Stiles holds everything inside his head most of the time anyway. I'm glad you appreciate it wasn't instant love-at-first-sight kinda thing. I did add more romance in this chapter, because I feel as if in a life or death situation things escalate faster than the would in a normal setting. Plus, Holly and Stiles are each others only form of communication and they are stuck together in this prison. In future chapters you will see more of how Stiles feels about what they are going through and his inner turmoil and wanting to live!

M: Well this chapter is more romantic! I hope you enjoyed it :D and there was more insight for Holly here, too! The next chapter I have written is super short, so I'm going to try and see if I can add anymore to Holly's character in there before I decide to post it. It's more for the emotional aftermath of what Stiles went through in this chapter!

* * *

SNEAK PEAK FROM CHAPTER FIVE:

I'm not bleeding anywhere for the first time. Not anywhere _visible_.

Holly reaches out for me, and I surprise us both by smacking her hand away. It's hard, too. She yelps and backs up to give me space.

Then I fall to the floor. I crawl to one of the corners and press my back into the wall. I don't say anything.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

* * *

Mr. Hyde escorts me to the cell alone. It's not as if I put up any sort of fight. However, it is the first time I return conscious.

Holly is on her feet. She's glaring at Mr. Hyde. I feel a sense of pride when she spits on him, but then I'm enraged when he smacks her for it. Her lip is split and she falls to the floor in a weak mess of bones.

We are left alone.

I'm not bleeding anywhere for the first time. Not anywhere _visible_.

Holly reaches out for me, and I surprise us both by smacking her hand away. It's hard, too. She yelps and backs up to give me space.

Then I fall to the floor. I crawl to one of the corners and press my back into the wall. I don't say anything.

"What did they do?"

Her wide brown eyes are in front of me.

"Nothing," I lie, and we both know it.

She holds out her palm. I don't want it. I look away from her.

Holly's never one to give much choice in healing me. She growls, and I think maybe she's a werewolf for a moment. It _would_ explain the supernatural healing powers. Except her veins don't turn black.

I know she knows what happened when her face scrunches up in discomfort. It's embarrassing for both of us when her underwear starts seeping blood.

She hugs me. She kisses my temple. She doesn't say anything.

Holly grabs the bucket and fills it with water. I don't feel pain, and I hate myself for being happy she took it from me.

I'm handed the rag and bucket. I guess she realizes I want to do this part myself.

That night she holds me. I hide under the blanket with her. She forces a smile, I know it's not real, but it's still beautiful. I think she smiled a lot before. Her lips curve at the corners almost like they are stuck in a permanent half-smile, even when she's frowning. One day I'm going to make her smile every single day and we won't have to hide under a blanket to do it.

My hands are running through her short hair and it feels greasy. She washes it every few days, but she warned me that they don't replace the soap often enough to clean ourselves every day. I don't mind, I just enjoy feeling her underneath my fingertips. Especially her skin, it's soft and creamy, so I cup her cheeks.

"I love you," I confess.

Holly lets out a small smile, it's real this time. "I love you."

"I thought I loved other people before. I guess I did, just not the same way."

"Tell me about them?"

"You want me to tell you about the women I loved before you?"

Holly presses a hand to my cheek. "Of course. As long as they deserve to be spoken of. If they hurt you, I suppose not."

I think of Lydia and Malia. In a way they hurt me, but not in the way that was terrible. The normal kind of heartache you receive after you lose someone.

"I loved Lydia once. I think a part of me still might love her. I think I always will."

She nods. "Sometimes you love people that you can never be with, or love people at the wrong time. Maybe one day."

"I don't think I want that with her anymore."

Because I want Holly. It's the first time I realize that. I hope I feel the same when we are free from this terrible place.

"I thought I was in love with Leonardo DiCaprio. I think I'll always love him."

I laugh.

"What makes you love Lydia?"

"What's not to love about Lydia? That's the real question…" I kiss Holly, it feels right. "She's smart, she's beautiful, she's a Banshee. I think she would like you."

"Did she love you?"

"No. Lydia is just my friend. She kissed me once, but that's it."

"Who was the second?"

"Malia."

"You sound… remorseful?"

"I lied to her too many times. We broke up."

"Maybe you'll get back together?"

"I don't want to."

"What did you lie about?"

"Important things. How I know who her real father was. How I killed someone."

"You've killed someone?"

I lick my lips. "Yes."

"I'm sorry. I've killed someone, too."

It's the first time she's apologized. Maybe because it feels like it's an accident. I never intended to kill anyone. It doesn't make it any easier though.

She snuggles into my chest.

"I don't want to love anyone else," I tell her after a few moments. I think Holly might not have heard me, but then she lifts my hand to kiss the back of it. I let it run through her hair. "I don't think I can love anyone else after this, after you."

We fall asleep.

* * *

I know this chapter is short. promise i'll get another chapter posted soon! Probably Monday to make up for this shortness.

Big thanks to Guest, gggg, M, xXbriannaXx, and Natalie94! ENJOY :D


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

* * *

"-he beat the shit out of me. Gerard was old as hell. I'm kinda embarrassed telling you this."

Holly laughs into the crook of my arm.

"I didn't get to free Erica and Boyd, but Chris did. He's a good guy. I feel… so _terrible_ for all of them. They all have such fucked up lives that get worse and worse and _worse_."

"I like your stories about Derek and Scott the best."

"Yeah?" I'm grinning. She has this dimpled smile on her face. It is rare. It is beautiful. "Why?"

"They have a lot of character. I feel very sorry for Derek. I am sad you didn't see how much he needed someone back then. I'm sure it would have altered a lot of his poor decisions involving Erica, Isaac, and Boyd."

I don't tell her I've been feeling the same way.

"I-I didn't mean to make you feel bad. You were young. You didn't understand, Stiles. No one can blame you for not having experience enough to feel for him the way you do now."

My lips are on her temple.

"I used to think if I died a virgin I would feel so depressed."

The comment throws me off guard. I raise a brow. "What?"

"When I was like, eleven… I thought that if I died a virgin it would be the worst thing ever. That nothing was more important than making sure I had sex before I died. I don't even want sex. All I think about now is how terrible it would feel to die if anything terrible happened to you."

I'm torn between commenting on her perverted thoughts as an eleven-year-old and her current thoughts of dying without me.

I don't get a chance for either.

They come for me.

Holly and I are still under the blanket, so she kisses me. She smiles. She says, "I love you, I love you, I love you. Remember that I love you."

"I love you, too," I tell her.

I am going to think of how much she loves me while they slice knives through my skin.

I am going to think of how much she loves me while she takes away my pain and suffers for me.

I don't think I am ever going to stop thinking about how much she loves me, because I love her every second a little bit more.

I don't want them to ruin are very frail sanctuary of under the blanket. Stepping out from underneath it, I allow Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to drag me away. I try to ignore the way Mr. Hyde's hand is on my lower back, cupping my ass. It's fucked up, but I know after weeks, months, years (I really don't think it's been years) of torture (and his semi-constant rape) that there's nothing for me to do.

They escort me to the room. I don't come willingly, but I don't fight anymore. I notice this makes Dr. Jekyll's cuts less deep. Mr. Hyde gets off on pain. And rape. And me. He doesn't get me often, which is good on my part.

Only when there is a dead body that mysteriously wasn't disposed of properly. I think he pays people off to not do their job.

Someone did do their job today. Or there just weren't any bodies to dispose of.

Everything is the same. Until it isn't.

Straps are tight on my forearms, wrists, waist, thighs, ankles. They wheel out the cart filled with their fun torture knives.

Dr. Jekyll beams. He is elated. "Scott is close."

"What?" I'm squinting up at the light to see him.

"He is close," he repeats. "We received visual of him ago this afternoon. He should be here within an hour with proper guidance."

They slice into my skin.

I think I might be dying. I don't black out.

It's the first time I am in _this_ much pain while awake. Holly is spitting again, clawing at them. It makes me so proud she fights for me, for us. She isn't trying to escape. She's trying to hurt them for hurting me. That makes me feel loved.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde don't agree with my thoughts. They always smack her, punch her, make her _obedient._

Holly is not obedient. Just repressed. I feel like she is caged animal waiting to strike. I dream about her eating them alive sometimes. She loves when I tell her when I have them. I think she wants to eat them. Maybe not _eat_ them. I know she wants to kill them.

The cold ground greets me, but not harshly. Holly is lowering me. Her small hands somehow find strength to make sure I'm placed gently onto the ground.

"Scott," I cough out, blood follows.

I know she is paying attention to what I'm saying, but puts more focus on my injuries. Her fingers are tangled with mine, sucking out my pain.

"Tell me," Holly urges. She knows how suddenly I can black out.

"Scott… he is close. They told me. Hour? An hour… hour… they said…"

She hushes me.

"I love you Stiles."

The way she says it makes me panic. Like it's final.

I don't understand. I'm in too much pain.

She's taking it, she's shaking, she's crying, she's _screaming_.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no."

She doesn't stop. Until she does.

I can't hear her breathing. I can't hear her heartbeat.

"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"

I cradle her fragile body against my chest. Her hair is wet with my tears and her blood. Maybe some of my blood also.

She isn't breathing anymore.

It takes them seventeen minutes and twenty-four seconds to figure out something is wrong. I counted Mississippi's.

They unchain her ankle.

Why? Why? Why? Why? _Why?_

Scott is _close_.

Why would she do that? I could have handled half of the pain.

I don't think I want to live anymore.

* * *

ugh oh! holly took all of stiles injuries and it appears it was too much for her body to handle :o don't kill me!

and sorry it took me so long to update when i said i would do it quickly! WORK :(

thanks so much for the reviews and sweet words :D


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

* * *

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde pry Holly's dead body from my surprisingly tight grip. They put her on a gurney. I'm handcuffed for the first time. I think they realize how much I love her, how much I want to tear them to pieces.

I'm strapped to the chair. They put Holly in the other room behind the glass. I'm shaking, screaming, yelling, swearing, fucking _praying_ something gives them a terrible death.

"Scott is near," Dr. Jekyll tells me with glee. I want to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until he can no longer breathe.

Someone I have never seen enters the room. His eyes are wide. He calls heatedly, "Sir."

"Yes?"

"Ten minutes."

Dr. Jekyll nods. He turns to Mr. Hyde and orders, "Do your worst. Not death. Let that come with time. We must give Scott some hope to draw him in."

He leaves.

I'm angry. So angry.

Mr. Hyde doesn't rape me for the first time that we are alone. He cuts into my skin, peels it back. He tells me how much he loves watching me die. He is sad Holly is dead because this will be the last time he can kill me.

I want to kill him.

I can't….

My pain tolerance is so high I'm awake enough to watch him wheel me into the morgue. I'm saddened he didn't kill me before. He places my body alongside Holly's unmoving one.

I want him dead.

"I am sad, too," Mr. Hyde whispers. "I loved the way your skin ripped when I pressed into it. How you ass bled after I finished coming inside you. Such a tight-"

I think I am crying.

"What the-WHAT IN THE-"

My eyes snap open to see Holly's dead hand wrap around My. Hyde's wrist. He can't struggle, this is fact from personal experience. Once Holly touches you, you can't really move. It's difficult.

I'm dying, I know. Yet, I feel proud as Holly drags herself into a sitting position. She is healing from the injures she stole from me that made her die. Or did she die? How is she doing this?

Holly is screaming.

What is she saying? I can't… I can't understand…. Everything is static. Everything is empty. Then she wiggles her fingers, and everything suddenly mutes all but her muffled screams.

" _GRAB MY HAND_!"

So I grab her hand.

I take in Mr. Hyde's screams, his pleas. Slowly. Holly has a small delicate hand entertained with my fingers and one hand in a firm grip around his wrist.

Mr. Hyde looks dead. His bright green eyes are wide, fearful. There is blood pouring out of his open wounds. He has all my current injuries, all the ones that Holly took from me, too. He is uglier than Dr. Jekyll now.

"Thank you for making this easy," Holly whispers to Mr. Hyde, but I hear it.

Mr. Hyde is dead.

"What?" I ask in a haze. Holly is pulling me to my feet. I'm not in pain and she is alive.

Maybe I am dead?

"I have secrets," she says. "I didn't want to keep this from you, but I knew they would save us. They couldn't know that I could do that."

I don't argue.

Holly makes me feel safe. Even safer when our hands are intertwined like they are now. There are bright lights, loud noise, and Holly pushes me to the floor multiple times. I'm not entirely positive what is happening.

She keeps yelling, "Duck!" "Move!" "Come on, Stiles!"

 _Bullets._

Someone is shooting at us.

A wild roar feelings the room that shakes the room we are standing in. Scott. It must be Scott.

I hope it is Scott.

Holly pulls me down a hallway. Neither of us know where we are going, but there are multiple roars coming from this way.

There are also many people in full black body armor holding weapons. Some look like lightsabers, buzzing a neon green around a black rod. Thankfully they are occupied fighting a few people at the end, they don't see us coming.

I'm pushed into a dip in the hallway. The familiar tiny hand is pressed into my malnourished chest forcefully. There is a ferocity in those deep set brown eyes that I've never seen before. "Stay here," Holly orders me. Then she runs.

"HOLLY! Don't-"

I peer around the corner and watch her sneak her way up to the group fighting. My back is against the wall, I feel useless. I don't want to be the weak, pathetic human Dr. Jekyll claims I am. Twisting on my heel, I dart towards the chaos.

Holly has a hand wrapped around someones exposed neck. She takes away their life the same way she took away Mr. Hyde's, but there is a difference. She doesn't have any injuries. The women in her arms goes limp, her skin turning a sickly green, and her pained bright blue eyes fade into white.

I only have a moment to catch Holly's irritated stare when she sees me before someone is knocking into my side. They touch me with their weapon and it shoots sparks up my spine. My entire body drops to the ground, I'm pulsating.

A familiar mop of dark brown hair is in my vision when I blink upwards. They aren't Scott, but I'm still grateful to see them.

Derek scoops me up so that one of his arms are tight around my waist and he's supporting me. He is leading Holly and I somewhere. There are a lot of people lying on the ground in their own crimson death. The stench is overwhelming.

"Run Stiles," Derek urges. He's picking up his pace and my limbs aren't working properly. "I need you to run!"

I try, I try so hard.

Holly grabs my hand and I try to shake her off, but she just grips it tighter. There is only a moment before I get control of myself again. Holly let's go of my hand.

"NO!" I reach back for her, because she falls behind.

She shakes her head. "Don't worry! I'm right behind you, promise!"

I don't believe her. I don't like the way she smiles at me unsurely, like maybe it'll be the last time. It can't be the last time.

There isn't much time to think on it because Derek is wolfed out and he is forcing me to go faster. Much faster than my weak human legs want me to go.

We are turning down halls, going through doors, I am lost. And Holly isn't behind us anymore.

"Derek, Derek, no! Holly, where is Holly?"

His supernaturally bright blue eyes glance at me in silent acknowledgement that he _did_ in fact hear my question. He just keeps going.

There is a metal double door at the end of the hall, it's open. Something magical is shinning through it.

 _Sunlight_.

I am breathless when we finally are outside. The air is chilly, but it's a warm chill. It doesn't smell like winter. More like fresh dewy grass.

My eyes are blown wide as I take in what my prison looks like from the outside. It's just a huge metal building. There are hardly any windows. We are surrounded by a blooming forest, and I think we might be in the middle of nowhere. It's the perfect place to hide a secret fortress.

Derek helps me over to a black SUV parked a few feet away. I escape his stronghold and let my body lean against the side of the car.

The momentary excitement of being outside vanishes when Holly doesn't come through the door. I'm wheezing, my throat is constricting and I feel like I'm dying. I'm already out of breath from running. I can't get any air in my lungs.

"Holly…" I think I sob, but I can't hear anything over the frantic pounding of my heart.

Hands are on my shoulders. They are big, there is nothing delicate about the way they feel as they guide me into a sitting position.

"Stiles!"

I'm grabbing at the ground with my fists, digging my blunt nails into the dirt below. "No, no, no, no, no!"

Two small hands cup my cheeks.

"Calm down."

They are delicate, they feel safe.

My head is pulled down onto their chest. I start to hear my own heartbeat fade dully into the background replaced by the fast paced beating of their own. Arms wrap around my shoulders, delicate hands run through my greasy hair.

"We are safe now."

I lift my head to blink watery eyes at Holly. She smiles, and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Even more beautiful than the sun.

I'm so sorry for making you guys think I killed Holly! xXbriannaXx, M, and LovelyFandomLover!

* * *

SO. The end is near. I know this story was short, but I'm glad you've enjoyed what I've put out for it :)


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